


The Innkeeper

by Lerya



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Creature Harry Potter, Creature Sancutuary, Harry doesn't grow up with the Dursleys, M/M, Necromancer Harry Potter, the inn, world building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-27 14:35:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30124308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lerya/pseuds/Lerya
Summary: Dimitriv had been the Innkeeper for a number of years, never finding an heir to take over, leaving him - with his immortal life - to watch over the Inn and the creatures that came by for sanctuary, food or just a talk.But that all changes when he finds a baby on a doorstep in a subburb, on a cold winter night, taking the child with him and quickly realising he has found his heir. Disrupting quite a few plans in the process, while endearing him with Death for taking his Chosen to grow up where he could make a difference.Join Harry's journey as he becomes the next Innkeeper, part of a secret society, that still follow the Olde Ways of Magic, and don't let anything as a non-human appearance fool him into thinking the person sitting in front of him was some kind of monster.
Relationships: Death & Harry Potter, Harry Potter & Dimitriv, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Voldemort, Magic & Harry Potter
Comments: 42
Kudos: 206





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a new one! It will be quite slow though, but there will be weekly updates, and I hope to be able to build quite the storyline!

Dimitriv couldn’t help but blink at what he was seeing in this totally ordinary and quite frankly boring neighbourhood. He had been here for a meeting with some other vampires, who were using the cover of this suburban neighbourhood to appear as people constantly working a night shift.

Giving them the ability to blend in seemingly with the Muggle population here, but also be able to live without fear at being persecuted by the Wizards, who in recent years, had forgotten all about the Olde Ways and the way them and their creature cousins were linked in ways lost forever.

Sighing, he couldn’t help but take a peak at the bundle left out on the doorstep, and when it moved, he didn’t think twice about picking it up. His non-beating heart froze as he realised a child had been left here, on this doorstep at the start of Winter, on a cold and frozen November morning.

Shaking his head, he couldn’t believe that someone would do this to a babe, even more so when he could feel magic, potent magic at that, coming off of the child. All the while the house the child was laying didn’t even smell of it, stank of Muggles before anything else.

Hearing something crunch, he found a letter tucked within the folds of the blanket wrapped around the baby, recognizing the handwriting and sneering at it. 

It wasn’t that surprising that the Old Fool was caught up in this, ever since rumour spread that he had been the witness of a prophecy most of the creature community was making themselves ready to hide.

The old man didn’t make it a secret what he thought about the creature community, and would love to have it eradicated, even if doing so would cost him his magic (not that he knew that - the heretic).

Curiosity won out in the end, making him open the letter, and sneer even more, to know that he had condemned an innocent family to death, all so his so-called prophecy could come to fruition. There hadn’t been a real seer for ages, at least not in the lines known for them - as they held too much human blood to manifest the gifts given to them by their ancestors.

But this babe, which he held in his hands, was prophesied to be the Savior of the World.

He scoffed, unless Mother Magic appeared in front of him at this very moment, he didn’t believe one for one second that the so-called prophecy Dumbledore heard was real.anyhow - but most likely a ploy to put an end to the support the Dark Lord had been gathering.

Thinking about the young wizard, for he was still young compared to Dimitriv, hurt - he had been so promising, accepting the blessing Mother Magic had bestowed upon him. Only to have it taken away by a delusional Old Fool.

Looking back at the baby, he couldn’t help but see the resemblance the baby had with the Potter child, so Dumbledore had the Potter couple acting as bait, killing both of them and was now leaving their child alone with Muggles.

Shaking his head, he couldn’t believe the old man was so blinded by the lies he believed that he would chance a magical child getting killed in a muggle household, as had been happening since the time of the founders.

It was one of the reasons the school had been founded in the first place, to give those with Muggle parents, or guardians, a place to stay - away from their abuse, and the chance that they would lose another one of their children to the narrow mindness of Muggles.

This seemed to be something the Old man was incapable of comprehending. That by allowing children to stay with Muggles, was to condemn part of a generation, as some of them would never make it back. Making sure they had a family to turn back to, who were magical, should be prioritised. But with the ruling body not up to date with rules existing since the start of magical civilisation, there was nothing they could do about it.

After all, they were the bloodthirsty monsters for turning people into one of their own, children who according to the Olde Rules were to be placed with their Sire or Maker, who had as much say on their wellbeing as a biological parent had.

But those practices were forgotten and the children they did turn were found dead, by their own hand or their families, or were taken into a society they would become a pariah off - leaving them on the outskirts of it, longing to belong with them, but also longing to be with their own kind - only to have the dogma being spread make them love themselves less and think of themselves as the monsters they were depicted as. 

Dimitriv looked down at the babe sleeping in his arms, this might not be his Childe, but who knew what might happen in the future. For now, he did know he would take the child with him, raise him as his own and hopefully give them a fighting chance to go preserve their way of life, instead of losing it to the narrow minded and simplistic vision the Ministry was using.

Pulling the child close, he turned on his heel and disappeared from the suburbs of Surrey, taking one of the key players with him.

Something that would not be discovered until the Hogwarts letters were send out, by which time it would be too late to get the boy to change his views about what he saw, experienced and was taught from the other side of the spectrum - a side that had been pushed back, belittled and which had nad eplans to break with the magical humans for good, in an effort to save themselves, as they doomed themselves to be without magic within the next 3 generations or so.

\---

Before he could arrive at his destination however, he could feel something swiping them of their path.

Coming to a stop made him clutch the babe all the closer, he had no idea what was going on and what was happening. But he made a promise to himself to keep an eye our for the small chins in his arms, so that was what he was going to do.

A chuckle made him look up however, eyes going wide as he saw just who was standing there.

"My lord Death."

Tha man standing in front if him was tall, at least 6ft 2, with dark hair combed back and pale skin contradicting quite nicely with his hair- and eye colour. Both were such a deep black that they seemed to absorb the light around them.

Th man was also dressed in a three piece suit, black, with a dark grey shirt and white tie, looking every inch like a Muggle Business man, except for the aura around him that declared him far above mere Mortals.

"I know you said that you would only believe this child was prophecy bound if Mother appeared, but I am afraid she is rather busy."

Dimitriv gasped at the babe in his arms, "but he is prophecy bound?"

Death hummed, "not in the way you think, and certainly not in the way dumbledore thinks, the Old Fool.

No, the little boy in your arms is bound to me."

Blinking a few times at the Primordial Being, Dimitriv couldn't help but look between the baby and Death, disbelief in his eyes. 

"But, My Lord, he doesn't smell of you!?"

Death nodded, "in another life it would take me well past his 17th birthday to take him as my own, and bestow upon him these gifts I bear. He is to be my heir in the near future, after all. But certain obstacles were in place to keep me from him. But now that you've taken him, Child of the Night, a whole new path opens.

By doing this, and raising him as your own, raising him among those who represent the Magical Community better than what the Wizards are going now, you’re going to give him the kind information he’s going to need after. Because sadly he will still be needed to clean up the mess the Wizarding Community had caused, together with the one known as Voldemort.

If Harry here never gets raised - and that’s a very loosely used term - by Muggles and swept away by the dogma that is the Wizarding World, we will all stand a much better chance at what is to follow.”

Dimitriv swallowed, “You mean that we get a chance for everything to go back to the Olde Ways?”

Death nodded, “The Dark Lord was on the right track on getting them implemented again, or at least to get people to think about them again - next to his devoted followers, not a lot of the Wizarding Community even knows where it is they get their magic from, never mind that the very same beings they keep locking out are in fact their cousins.

I digress, the Dark Lord was doing an admirable job, but Dumbledore found out, which we all know is not a good thing, especially not when the man might preach about acceptance and that in front of an audience, he wants nothing more than to eradicate the part of the Magical Community that is not human (which he will find out is all of it).

He put a stop to the operations of the Dark Lord by leaking a prophecy that spelled of his downfall, and the man, fearing his task would come to an end, took the bait and lost his body because of that.”

Dimitriv nodded, still feeling the terror at hearing that the greatest Dark Lord of all time, Mother’s Chosen Champion, had lost to a mere babe. He suspected something else might be going on, but still. To hear that this is all a set-up by Dumbledore.

“And Dumbledore wants to raise this child as a pig for slaughter then, to keep putting him up against a formidable wizard already in his prime, all to give the Wizarding World the sensation they want, and to give him a way of getting rid of his last obstacle without getting his hands dirty.”

Death nodded, “he wants the boy in this household, as the Muggles are known to abhor anything unnatural, he would grow up abused, neglected, and when he sweeps in - the boy would clutch him like a lifeline, giving him the perfect little puppet.”

Dimitriv shook his head. “That’s just awful And what for, because Dumbldedore doesn’t get that we get our magic from the very creature inheritance he despites, nor does he even believe in Mother Magic, which is odd giving the family his father descends from.”

Death nodded, “he does not want to see that which is right in front of him. Dumbledore has convinced himself that Magic is given by evolution, and not by a primordial being. But for now, letting him go on, will not bring a lot of good for either of us.”

“Too many deaths, you mean.”

Death nodded, “that and it will be the foreboding of a lot more deaths to follow. I am happy you interfered, Vampire, to take that child away from the doorstep you found him on. Raise him well, with the same open mindedness you hold, Innkeeper. I’ll hold the wizards from your door.”

Before Dimitriv could say anything else, he could feel himself being released from whatever hold Death had on him, making him land in the entrance of his Inn - The Doxy’s nest - with the baby in his hands, seeing to his astonishment, the scar once on the boy’s head disappearing, but a birthmark taking its place - Death’s symbol grew darker and darker on the boy’s skin. Making him swallow thickly, Death wasn’t joking about this boy being bound to him, he could smell it now, a smell he hadn’t smelled in ages - a full blood necromancer would once again walk among them. 

Dimitriv grinned, the future was looking brighter and he was looking forward to whatever it was this boy grew up to be. It was sure to be amazing.


	2. Chapter 2

Integra was sighing from where she was standing behind the bar, waiting for Dimitriv to come back from whatever appointment he went to, all the way in back water Surrey. It wasn’t in his doing to be back so late.

Sighing, she looked at those that were at the inn, waiting for the innkeeper to arrive. 

Shaking her head, she could still remember finding this place on the end of Knockturn alley, an Inn, not unlike the Leaky Cauldron, but instead of catering to witches and wizards, this Inn catered to supernatural creatures, and those in tune with the creature inside themselves.

The innkeeper, a younger Dimitriv, if one could count a vampire from Roman times younger, had been there to welcome her into the inn, telling her that it was his job to look after everyone that arrives. Looking after them, treating their wounds if it should be needed, gave them a bed and a hot meal, and in case they needed it, he could give them information. Someone of his age knew more than others could dream about.

But, being the innkeeper came at a price, he couldn’t leave for long periods of time, and if he did, it would kill him. The Inn was in a way, part of his soul, part of his existence, and until he found a worthy successor, he would be responsible for it.

Many a times has she said she’d take over when he got tired of running this place. But everytime he would just smile and pat her head, shaking his head, “you’re not cut out for this, my dear, you’re welcome to stay as long as you want, but you’ll never be able to own this place.”

The first few times she had been mad, but now, as she grew older, she understood that she would be bored of this place in a few years, without being able to leave, she’d never see the world, not in the way that she dreamed about it.

Plus; in the end, she was still only part creature, and mostly human, she’d never live as long as he had done, and as most creatures did. With the undiluted magical blood in their veins, they were made to live much longer than humans.

So, the new Innkeeper had to be someone almost immortal, or as close at it could be, before Dimitriv would give this place up.

Hearing footsteps by the door, she turned and smiled as Dimitriv took a step into the room, only to stop and stare at what he was holding into his hands.

“Is that a child?”

Looking at the bundle in his arms, the vampire nodded, “yes, my heir.”

Integra blinked, “you went and stole a child, so it could be your heir?”

Looking around, she saw more than one person looking at the vampire as if he was nuts. Thinking that he had stolen a human child of all things, to become his heir, when he wouldn’t let her take over as a quarter fae.

Dimitriv smiled, “use your senses, child, what do you see, what do you smell, what do you perceive?”

Integra tilted her head, forgoing her ‘normal’ senses, and tuning into the ones she so rarely used. Blinking once, twice, and once more before gasping.

“A Necromancer.”

Dimitriv nodded, “a chosen by Death, who had been left on the doorstep of a muggle family on a chilly November morning, left there to be kneaded and moulded into following Albus Dumbledore.”

Integra blinked again, “you mean that is the Potter child?”

Dimitriv nodded, “one destined to become Master of Death, and a necromancer like no one has ever soon, not since the Olde Gods walked the Earth. Lord Death himself told me that this was his chosen, and that by taking him away from his mother's relatives, I made sure he had a way of giving him those gifts he would receive either way.

By raising him, I will get an heir I have waited a long time on, and the Inn will get a new Innkeeper, who will stay with it until the ends of time, and who will learn our ways, instead of those of the wizards. Who will learn what it was, before these humans started to burge and burn, and kill all those not human enough for them.

It was them that ended the Olde Gods, and it is them that is taking away the magic in the population. But they will never see it like that, not without those willing to see leading them. And we all know Albus Dumbledore will never see that which is in front of his crooked nose. All he sees are humans with magic, and the power to use that magic to co-exist with the Muggles. Not taking into account that breeding with the non-magicals will only result in squibs, stillborns or miscarriages.”

Integra blinked once more, “so you’re telling me that Death himself, the Olde God, told you about this boy and that he was chosen by him?”

Dimitric grinned and nodded, tilting the baby towards her, and showing her the birthmark that was forming on his forehead, the sign of the Deathly Hallows, and the sign of those chosen by Death - like the Peverell’s had once been chosen - to fight for the Magical community, and to make sure that what was prophesied wouldn’t come to past.

“You actually want me to believe you found a baby necromancer in some suburb in Surrey?”

Dimitriv just nodded, before turning and taking the baby with him towards his quarters, as he had expected, his rooms were already prepared for the new addition to his family, chosen by death, who would bring a new kind of chaos to the Inn. One he couldn’t wait to see what it would bring.

\---

Downstairs, Integra started making drinks again, talking to the regulars, like the pair of banshees at the bar, the werewolf in the dark corner and a family of vampires that shared the best gossip everytime they arrived.

Sighing, she looked up as Kayleigh and Ciara looked up from whatever it was they had been reading and smiled at her.

“Isn’t it exciting, darling, a Necromancer, walking among us again, after so many years.”

Integra tilted her head, “there have been lots of necromancers over the years, haven’t there, I know the Dark Lord had a fair hand at the arts.”

Ciara shook her head, “there are those arts that can be learned by study, but to be a Necromancer, is to be a chosen by Death, to see the world as He sees it, and to share his gifts, even if one isn’t an Olde God. That boy that Dimitriv found, he’s going to bring a wind of change, I can already feel it.”

Mulling over everything that she had been told, Integra couldn’t help but think that a Necromancer must be something really special, if the banshee pair spoke so revealing about them.

The vampire family, most likely having heard what had been said, smiled at her, “necromancers, at one point where the only chosen of the Olde Gods still among us, so their word was law. They after all, saw the world as the Olde Gods did, and knew what needed to happen to make sure everything stayed in order - instead of falling into decay, as it has been doing for a number of years now.”

One of the others elaborated, “having a Necromancer among us, is like, someone close we can speak to, but through whom we can also speak to the Olde Gods, plus as they get their powers from such primordial beings, they can use it however they wish. They are not bound by wands, or spells, or even incantations. They can just use magic like the Gods can, with a thought and a wave of their hand.”

Dimitriv, who had appeared behind her, cleared his throat, “but as with anything, those humans couldn’t deal with something that was so above their understanding, so they killed it, killed the last Necromancer to walk the Earth, and with their death made the last of the Olde Gods leave too.

To know that Death is watching over us, gives us a feeling of safety, as He will always be there, he is always watching, and he will still be there watching when you actually die. Waiting to enclose you into his embrace and take you away to the after life. 

A Necromancer gives you that feeling, that comfort every moment they are with you. They give out the same aura as Death does, comforting us on such an instinctive level, that having them close, having them here, will only mean that we will come together again as a community.”

Integra sighed, “you mean it will bring those out of hiding, who went into it, to escape everything the humans were doing to the planet.”

Dimitriv nodded, “that is what I hope, that with the boy here, people will once again realise what the Inn actually is, and that they don’t need to be afraid. That the Inn is a fortress which will never fall, not as long as there is an Innkeeper, and with me as the present one and Hadrian as the future one, it will stand for eons to come.”

Integra hummed, looking around and seeing the look of wonder in the face of those present. Even the werewolf, usually so alone, and silent, was sitting at the edge of his seat, his pointy teeth grinning in a wide smile.

His deep raspy voice sounded as he spoke, “a Necromancer, like Death, can see right through you. There is no use in lying to them, or trying to hide what it is you want to do. Nothing like that sticks with them, they look at you and see all the way to your soul. And it they like what they see, they will help you.

If they don’t, there are stories of Necromancers just taking someone’s soul, even before their time, because they tried to deceive them. With them back in play, eon old feuds will get put to rest, and even more - there will not be any new ones, as you can’t start one if there is someone willing to be an independent judge.”

Dimitric chuckled, “that a lot of words there, Fenrir, I didn’t know you spoke as much anymore.”

The werewolf, Fenrir, scoffed, “I only stopped talking as the Wizards loved to point at me whenever a child gets bitten. I only bite those that need the bite, that would be better off with it, even if the Wizards don’t recognize the custom and ostracize the child in question.

I want a strong pack, and I know that I can get it with the help from the Innkeeper, especially now that we know what the next one will be. I look forward to what else is going to happen. As with the Dark Lord’s demise, temporarily as it may be, Dumbledore will try to take control of the magical community. And who knows what he’ll turn it into.”

Integra snorted, “a paradise for Mugglebrons, giving away ages of history and culture, just so those will feel more secure in a community that is very different from their own. But changes itself, at the behest of a Mad Man, so they can fit in.”

Most of the people in the Inn snorted at that, knowing all too well that the reason they even had to seek refuge in the Inn was because their race was offensive, or terrifying or a sin towards their God, in the eyes of the Muggleborns. All who never saw that by accepting the changes made, they allowed a culture to be lost - just so they didn’t have to deal with all the changes magic brough to their lives.

Dimitriv nodded, a sad look in his eyes, “let us just hope that there is change on the horizon, that we won’t need to keep living in the shadows like this, not with Hadrian here.”

Fenrir hefted his glass, “to the new Innkeeper.”

The toast was repeated by all of those in the Inn, making Dimitriv smile, he was looking forward to what the next Innkeeper would do.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a [ discord channel ](https://discord.gg/ZQgS86qj4J)
> 
> Or send me an email: lerya.fanfic@gmail.com
> 
> Or find me on [ tumblr ](www.lerya-fanfic.tumblr.com)


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